


Hell Hath No Fury Like A Grieving Lover

by Stranded_In_The_Cosmos



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Aziraphale Dies (Good Omens), Aziraphale undies, Crowley is forced to kill Aziraphale, Darkish Crowley, How Do I Tag, M/M, Major Character Undeath, Murder, No beta we fall like Crowley, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ruler of Hell Crowley (Good Omens), Tags May Change, very sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:54:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24639496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stranded_In_The_Cosmos/pseuds/Stranded_In_The_Cosmos
Summary: In which, Crowley is forced to killed Aziraphale, unwillingly, and he takes reign over Hell, waiting to exact his revenge, whatever that may be. Until, well, his husband shows up on his doorstep from the dead.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 42
Kudos: 71





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Look I was very emotional when I wrote this.

Prophecies For The World After The End, Agnes Nutter, Witch, Prophecy 10: After thee end have cometh, angel an deamon hath risen, a storme shall cometh aftyr tragedy, a king shalle fall and one anew shall ryse, fyre and fury will take hold, and all but Earth shalle feel it.

-

“My lord,” Beelzebub knelt, keeping a hand close to their belt.

“Good job addressing me correctly,”

“Thank you,” Beelzebub grit, slowly reaching for something thin and dark in their back pocket.

“I assume you come to me with news?”

“Of course,” Beelzebub pulled it from their pocket and hid it in their hand. “Great newzz,”

“Do tell,”

Beelzebub smiled and pounced. The object in their hand flipped out into a blade and they aimed it exactly at the tyrant’s throat. They were close, so close to plunging it deep, getting their hand in the tyrant’s neck, to pull out veins and muscle and laugh at the tyrant’s fall.

They were caught by the throat instead.

“Really? A knife, again? You should learn from your mistakes, Beelzebub. Have some imagination. Though, I’m not surprised, you haven’t for thousands of years,”

“I have, though, my lord,” Beelzebub smirked. “Never assume you can do it in one shot,” They pulled a dagger from their mouth and aimed it at the tyrant’s head.

Their wrist was caught.

“Poor, poor, Beelzebub, even a new trick feels old. When will you quit?”

“I won’t until I have your head on my wall,” Beelzebub hissed.

“Hm, then I may really just have to off you, I really did have hope you’d realize I was no threat to you,”

“You’re a tyrant, you kill to keep order. You suffocate Hell, you are every threat to me,” Beelzebub squirmed in the tightened hold.

“And you didn’t? I have made Hell so much better. Lucifer kept you back, but I let you run free, I don’t make you fill a mark or work to the end, you are free. Your fighting will only hurt you, and my rule will not end because of it, it will never end. It never can,”

Beelzebub searched for options. They didn’t want to give the tyrant what he wanted, but they were starting to think there wasn’t another way to end this.

“Oh, but it will,”

“Oh, will it now? Tell me, how do you know?”

“He’s back,” Beelzebub smiled. “And now, you will be just another lowly demon, _Crowley_ ,”

-

_Three years after the end that was not._

The Apocalypse had become a distant memory for Crowley and Aziraphale, no less important, but in the rush of love that followed, the victory as well, there was no need to dwell. They were free to think about it as much as they wanted at any time.

“Free from my folk’s enslavement, skippin’ along the pavement,” Crowley gently twirled Aziraphale as he sang. “To see a not-brunette, who I’d never met,”

Aziraphale laughed at Crowley’s awkward change of the lyrics.

“But I never would forget, how he looked in that dress,” Crowley smoothed out again and pulled Aziraphale to his chest.

“How he stuck out his hand and said: My name is Aziraphale and I hope you like music, ‘cause I got two tickets for La Traviata,”

“My name won’t rhyme Crowley,”

Crowley smiled and continued. “That’s when I said, I hate the opera,”

“You do hate the opera dear,” Aziraphale teased. Crowley shushed him with a kiss.

“He laughed and he said: Well lucky for you, that you’re with Aziraphale, who cares what you’re listening to it’s who you’re listening with,”

“I told you it wouldn’t rhyme,” Aziraphale was again shut up with a kiss.

“Am I going to have to stop dancing and make you shut up?” Crowley growled playfully.

“Mm, maybe,” Aziraphale gasped when Crowley’s mouth attacked his neck.

“Just maybe?” Crowley asked.

“Oh, yes, definitely, no other way,” Aziraphale let himself be shoved onto the nearby couch.

“Oh, well, how unfortunate,” Crowley began undressing Aziraphale.

“Mm, truly,” Aziraphale gasped as Crowley’s warm hands roamed over his skin. “Ah!” He yelped as Crowley ground his hips into him. Then, as Crowley moved to undress more of Aziraphale, Crowley’s hands became hot, then scalding, then literally burning, fire-like in intensity.

“Ah! Ah! C-Crowley! Stop! It-it burns!” Aziraphale squirmed and cried out.

“I-I can’t! I can’t! I’m trying I can’t!” Crowley struggled, but his hands stuck to Aziraphale.

“Crowley! Help!” Aziraphale’s skin began to burn, cracking and blackening, melting off his muscles.

“I-I, what’s going on?” Crowley continued to struggled against whatever held him.

“What is going on,” A new voice spoke. “Is you are going to kill the angel Aziraphale for me,”

Crowley turned to the voice. And there stood, nobody but dear old Lucifer S. Morningstar. A smug smile tweaked at his lips, and his eyes seemed to pour out malice.

“What the Hell are you doing here? What are you doing?” Crowley felt his hands heat up more and Aziraphale literally screamed out.

“Well, since you won’t be a threat after he’s dead, might as well tell you,” Lucifer willed a chair near him and sat. “I am controlling you Crowley, or at least enough of you to keep yourself from stopping. You thought you got off scot free when you survived holy water? Well, a little bird told me that the demon Crowley was smelling a whole lot like an angel, I ate it, of course, but I decided to follow its little thread and guess what I found? Guess,”

Crowley felt his stomach tear itself in half.

“I know I could kill you both,” Lucifer began. “But, I know it’s going to hurt you a lot more Crowley, to kill him, with your own hands, bury him, and live with what you’ve done,”

Crowley felt tears well up and began struggling more. Aziraphale screamed again and kept screaming as Crowley’s hands burst into flames. Hellfire flames.

“No! No! No no no no no!” Crowley began crying.

“Yes,” Lucifer grinned.

More of Aziraphale’s skin began to burn, melt, the flames trailed from Crowley’s hands and across Aziraphale skin like a match dropped in gasoline.

“Stop, stop this, please, I’ll do anything, I-I’ll murder, take, be a bloody good demon, I’ll be your personal pet I promise just stop!” Crowley struggled, but nothing helped.

“Oh, but this is so much more fun,”

Aziraphale felt the flames creep near his face, and a sudden realization washed over him. He was going to die. And in a way it was terrifying, and all the same it seemed unavoidable.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale croaked. “Crowley look at me,”

Crowley stared with bleary eyes.

“I love you,”

“Stop,”

“I wish I could say it for all the times we won’t be able to,”

“Stop it,”

“I can’t, I love you so much. I want to make love to you for all the times we couldn’t and won’t be able to, I want to kiss you and hug you. I want to spend eternity with you, I want everything. And I’m sorry we can’t, my love,”

“Stop it!” Crowley shouted.

“I don’t blame you, and you won’t blame yourself if you love me, this isn’t your fault,”

The flames finally caught on Aziraphale’s hair.

“I love you,” Aziraphale breathed and screamed.

“Aziraphale!” Crowley screamed.

Soon, Aziraphale stopped screaming, stopped moving. And the flames retreated.

“Good job Crowley! You killed him so prettily!” Lucifer cooed.

Crowley didn’t answer, pulling a limp Aziraphale into his finally free arms.

“I’m sorry,” He croaked.

Crowley laid Aziraphale’s body back down. And turned to Lucifer.

“I will kill you,” Crowley growled.

-

Lucifer’s ring of horns were fitted into a crown that week.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Bee x Gabe ish stuff at the end because why the hell not?

Demons weren’t very biblical, well, not in the traditional sense, but they parted like the Red Sea for Crowley as he tried not to run. Everyone knew what was happening, news traveled fast in Hell, and there was a sense of terror, Crowley wasn’t known to be stable. And to most, this seemed like adding water to a grease fire. No one said a word all the same.

Two guards stood at the end of the corridor, they were trying to exert fearlessness and confidence, but they looked the exact opposite, scared and confused. Each held a dark black chain, extending down until the view was cut off by the still thick crowd.

Crowley prayed, for the first time in a while, to find something other than what Beelzebub had said. He was finding that the idea of getting something lost back was extremely terrifying.

He finally made it through the crowd, and where the chain lead down to was a ball of shaking red-tinged white feathers. There was a small humming sound coming from it, and Crowley felt sick as he tried not to recognize the tune.

“What is it?” Crowley asked in a breath.

The guards looked at each other and back at Crowley and remained silent.

“Answer me,” Crowley said firmer, voice almost shaking.

The guards looked and each other once more, and one might’ve whispered a sort of prayer.

They both pulled on the chains and the feathers, well, wings, pulled apart and revealed in a sort of sicker curtain draw a small angel, deep blue eyes, and bright white hair. Its, well it wasn’t much of an ‘it’ anymore, face and hair were dirtied with blood and grime, but soft and pale all the same. Crowley felt every part of him break, seeing the fear, the desperate attempts to cover themselves with their wings again.

Crowley fell to his knees.

A collective gasp waved over the crowd.

Crowley didn’t hear it, and even if he did he didn’t care, he was far past that now.

“ _Aziraphale_ ,”

-

“You can’t just waltzzzz in here and claim the throne, you know how thingzzz work Crawley!”

“I think I can when I kill Lucifer myself, tear out his horns and fit them into a crown,” Crowley hissed.

Beelzebub looked at Crowley’s so-called crown, and almost gagged. Instead of a plate of metal or gold, or anything normal really, his skin was climbing up the horns, making them part of the redhead, maing them his horns. And dear dead Satan, Beelzebub didn’t like any of it.

“I’m not letting you just take over, even if you could, there izz a bit of an order here, and I take his seat before anyone else doezzzz, got it?” Beelzebub hissed.

“Last time I checked we just killed someone and got their place, or has that changed?”

Beelzebub internally cursed.

“No one has ever fought blood _Satan_ Crawley, there isn’t anything in any of my rulebookzz that state that it’s even okay to fight him!”

“Since when did Hell start following rules?” Crowley snarled.

“Since we realized that thingzz generally work better with them,” Beelzebub spat. “Leave now, Crawley, or else,”

Crowley seethed. “Call me Crawley again and see where I go,”

Beelzebub really should have thought through what they said next, but, of course, the affect of words often goes by unnoticed until something bad happens.

“Well, aren’t you Crawley? The serpent of Heaven cazzt to crawl on his belly for the rest of hizz life? A lowly scum upon Her creation?” Beelzebub spat.

Crowley didn’t make a sound as he took Beelzebub by a shoulder and threw them against a nearby wall. Before they could begin to get up Crowley dug a heel into their back, pressing hard.

“I am not Crawley. I am not scum. I refuse to be what She wants me to be,” Crowley leaned more of his weight on Beelzebub and there was a small cracking sound.

Beelzebub almost laughed at that. It seemed to them, that Crowley was being exactly what She wanted him to be. But then again, they had no clue what She wanted.

“Call me Crawley one more time, and I will be both prince and king,”

“Fine, but you will never have my respect,” Beelzebub hissed as Crowley pressed harder.

“I don’t want it,”

-

Life as a prince under Crowley’s reign, could be, well, stressful.

And stress relief came in very odd places for Beelzebub. Namely, an angel.

“I can’t take another century,”

“You’ve said that every century for millennia now,”

Beelzebub groaned. “You would too if you had to deal with him! It’s like stepping on eggshellzzzz somedayzzz! He’zzz not even near stable anymore!”

“I thought you wanted to de-stress, you’re getting more stressed,” Gabriel pressed the palm of his heel into Beelzebub’s shoulder and popped it.

“I’m trying,”

“Stop thinking about him for a moment,”

Beelzebub sighed. “Have you ever heard of the thing with polar bearzz humans tested?”

Gabriel popped Beelzebub’s neck. “No,”

“Nevermind,”

“Look, it’s not any better in Heaven if it makes you feel better,” Gabriel sighed. “Michael is still upset that Crowley got to take down Lucifer, something to do with the Great Plan or the fact she struck him down. I’m still quelling outbursts from Satan’s death or Armageddon, no one in Heaven is exactly happy with me,”

“Mm, try cleaning up after an outburst, record is thirty demonzz killed in a night, so far,” Beelzebub mumbled.

“Thirty? Seems like a lot of somewhat innocent lives for someone like Crowley to take,”

“Crowley’zz a demon, and is starting to be a pretty good one, he killed another demon with holy water, he killed Satan, he’zzzz lost all fuckz,”

“Done,” Gabriel popped the last joint and sat up. “Feel better?”

“Yeah, a bit,”

“Anything else you need?” Gabriel asked.

“Some holy water,” Beelzebub laughed dryly.

“Unfortunately, no. But I can offer hugs,” Gabriel smiled.

“Tempting, but I have thingszzzz to do,” Beelzebub tried to sit up but Gabriel draped himself over the demon.

“You’re staying,”

Beelzebub didn’t argue.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy!

Many things can change about a person in thousands of years.

And many things, can stay the same.

Crowley pulled himself off the floor, not letting himself question or feel, he couldn’t keep Aziraphale waiting. Afraid and chained.

“Release him,”

The guards jolted in surprise, accidently pulling the slackened chains taut again. Aziraphale whined and pulled back his wings.

“Sir, my lord, what?”

“You heard me, _release him_ ,” Crowley growled. “I will handle it from there,”

“My lord, that’s insane, he’s an _angel_ ,”

Crowley hissed. “Do you think that I’m unqualified to handle an angel? Do you think I’m weak? I would think about my next words very carefully if I were you,” Crowley picked up his staff from the ground and shoved it under the chin of one of the guards. “ _Very carefully_ ,”

The guard snapped their fingers, and the chains fell. “Of course, not sir, of course not. You are free to do as you wish with him,”

“Good,” Crowley didn’t want to scare Aziraphale, but there wasn’t much of a choice. He scooped the angel up and unfurled his wings. “Make sure this doesn’t go anywhere,” He ordered, before taking off, darting over the crowds that filled Hell’s walls.

Aziraphale never squirmed in Crowley’s arms as he flew.

-

_“Crowley stop,”_

_“Stop Crowley stop!”_

_Crowley tried. He really did. He wanted to._

_He didn’t stop though, he couldn’t._

_Sadistic laughing pounded in his head, and a tempting voice whispered at the same time._

_“You want this. You wouldn’t have let me do it again if you didn’t. You could’ve ran. Gotten away from him. But you wanted so so badly to hurt him! Well, take your pleasure Crowley, it won’t last long though, such a pity how fast he dies. Oh, but what a joy that he always comes back. A gift, really, maybe even from Her,”_

_“Crowley please!”_

_“Crowley, Crowley, Crowley-“_

_Crowley’s fingers tightened around Aziraphale’s pale throat, squeezing. There was a crack, and Aziraphale’s throat flattened, his esophagus crushed._

_Aziraphale strained for words, for breath. For anything. Tears rolled down both of their faces._

_He fell limp._

_“Monster,”_

Crowley shot up. His entire body was drenched in sweat, minus his face, which seemed to be drenched in tears. It was hard to tell, salty all the same.

He wanted to scream, cry out, make a sound, do something. But he couldn’t, either for fear of calling attention from Beelzebub or any other demon, or because his throat felt just as crushed as he had dreamed of Aziraphale’s.

He slid back down into the covers instead, miracling away the dampness.

He didn’t know why he slept anymore, it didn’t keep his demons away, but he still did.

-

Crowley willed the door of his chambers locked, hoping in some small way that it would keep anyone out if necessary. Or in, if things went to Hell in a handbasket, well they were already in Hell, so maybe to Armageddon in a handbasket.

He set Aziraphale on the bed and set to getting everything Aziraphale needed. Despite the endless questions he never spoke, gathering things and hoping that his angel would be alright when he did speak.

_Was Aziraphale still his angel?_

Crowley kept his gaze down as he approached the bed, setting a stack of perfectly folded white robes down.

“It’s-It’s not much, some old ones I found. I think they’ll be a little big, but I don’t know if I could manifest anything to your liking,”

Crowley risked a look up, and found not fear nor anger in the eyes he saw.

It was curiosity.

“Who are you?” Aziraphale asked.

-

Beelzebub picked up the limp body in their arms.

“What’zzz the record now Dagon? Forty?”

“Fifty-Five, minus Ligur’s injury of course,”

Beelzebub groaned. “Keep Hazztur from doing anything stupid got it? I’m sick of cleaning entrails as it is,”

“Of course, my lord,”

Beelzebub found it almost funny, how one demon dying in Hell a day was fine, unimportant, but so many all at once felt like getting hit by a wave in the ocean.

“What do you think caused it this time?”

Beelzebub scoffed. “Why should I know?”

“Because I know you do, and I don’t like cleaning this up anymore than you,” Dagon said sharply.

“Nightmarezzz,” Beelzebub sighed. “He, he didn’t look like he knew really what wazz going on,”

“Have you tried to stop them?”

“He doesn’t drink or eat anything, I can’t drug him,” Beelzebub laughed. “And I’m no angel, I can’t perform blessingzz, so no,”

“Very hopeful I see,” Dagon snarked.

“Get going back to your office if you’re going to be a nuisance,” Beelzebub growled. “Or you can clean thizz up yourself,”

Dagon muttered something and walked away.

Beelzebub looked around to make sure it was clear and pulled a thin piece of glass out of their pocket. A gift from Gabriel, a way to contact him.

“Gabriel,”

“Beelzebub! Good timing,”

“Can you come tonight?” Beelzebub asked. “It’s, it’s a literal bloody mezzz down here, I’ve got to clean it up, I just need you tonight,” They admitted.

“Of course, I can, um, what do you need?”

“You,”

“That’s vauge,”

“I mean _you_ , bird-brains,”

Gabriel flushed. “O-of course, just, please don’t talk like that when I’m in Heaven, they might hear you,”

“They wouldn’t know what I was talking about even if I said explicitly what I wanted tonight,” Beelzebub laughed.

“Don’t do that,”

“Hush, I’m not in a position to do that either,”

“When are you going to be over?”

“Don’t know, just be there,”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley has an amnesiac angel.

_“Who are you?” Aziraphale asked._

Crowley’s gaze shot up, his stomach had dropped through the floor, along with most of the organs in his chest cavity. His hearing had to have worsened. “What?” It wasn’t meant to sound as harsh as it did.

“Who-who are you?” Aziraphale asked more timidly.

Any fear that Crowley had about what Aziraphale thought of him instantly screeched to a halt and was not so gently thrown on the backburner.

“You can’t be serious,” Crowley said, even though he knew that Aziraphale was in fact completely serious.

“I-I,” Aziraphale hid behind his wings, shaking. “I-I don’t know you; I-I’m not lying I swear I promise I don’t know anything,”

Crowley again set aside his numerous and heart aching questions the care for Aziraphale.

“H-hey, it’s okay,” It was in fact, not okay. “I-I don’t think you’re lying, just shocked,” Crowley was very much beyond that.

Aziraphale still hid behind his wings but shaking less.

“Well, I’m Crowley, since you asked, it’s nice to meet you,” Crowley sat on the end of the bed, talking gently, despite the frenzied screaming inside of him.

Aziraphale pulled his wings down a bit.

“I’m the king of Hell, the place you’re in, I’m and everyone else here except you is a demon,” Crowley explained. “Do-do you need anything else explained?”

Aziraphale nodded slightly.

“Well, would you tell me what you need explained?”

Aziraphale seemed afraid to ask, and he was, seeing as he had picked up, albeit slowly, that Crowley was explaining common knowledge.

“Um, we can wait if you want, you can get dressed instead,” Crowley picked up the stack of robes and placed them at Aziraphale’s feet.

Aziraphale loosened a bit, and folded is wings back to begin dressing. Unaware or uncaring of Crowley’s presence.

Crowley was not ready to see Aziraphale undressed, even without Effort, he ducked his gaze, blushing furiously. He cursed himself, knowing that there were far more important things to be thinking about.

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said in a small voice, and Crowley finally looked up.

The robes were too big, cut for someone of a broader build and taller frame, but the ocean of fabric looked nice, even cute on Aziraphale. 

“Um, no problem, couldn’t leave you undressed, could I?” Crowley joked.

Aziraphale squirmed a bit at the notion.

“I wouldn’t,” Crowley assured.

Aziraphale smiled faintly.

“Now, would you like to tell me what you need explained?” Crowley asked, finding a level of irony in the fact that _he_ of all beings were answering questions, even when he had so many of his own.

Aziraphale began to answer before a loud pounding knock was lashed upon Crowley’s door.

Aziraphale jumped to Crowley’s side and as soon as he had wrapped his arms around Crowley’s arm, Crowley has jumped up and off the bed. Not due to the consistent knocking.

The knocking had become a blur to Crowley as his heart thudded louder. A rising thought of hurting Aziraphale again had him wanting to run off anywhere but there.

He was dragged into reality by something clinging to his waist.

It was Aziraphale, face hidden in his back, arms around his waist, and seemingly unfazed by Crowley’s escape.

Crowley wanted to keep Aziraphale away from him, keep him safe, but he couldn’t bear to move him away.

Aziraphale had to be okay, he could get him away before anything happened, he only hurt him because he touched him, not because Aziraphale touched him, it would be fine.

Right?

“Aziraphale, Aziraphale, it’s okay,” Crowley soothed, and Aziraphale didn’t question how Crowley knew his name. “Hey, it’s just another demon, they probably need me for something, you can stay here,”

Aziraphale clung tighter to Crowley.

“It’s okay, I just need to pop out for a bit and I’ll be back,” Crowley assured, not daring to nudge Aziraphale off.

Aziraphale relented some, but still held him at his hips.

“Just a bit,” Crowley said again.

Finally, Aziraphale’s grip loosened and Crowley was able to get out of the hold.

“Right back,” Crowley said before running out of the room shutting the door behind him before whatever demon could get any ideas about coming in and messing with Aziraphale.

That demon happened to be Beelzebub.

-

“Crawley,” Beelzebub greeted, as if Crowley were still a lowly demon who wouldn’t dare mess with Beelzebub.

Crowley didn’t have the energy to say anything about it, he just couldn’t. “What do you need?”

“I was just checking in, lotzz of excitement you know, especially from the common demons,”

Crowley squinted. “You want something,”

“Of course I do, I’m a demon, and you know I juzzt love gluttony,” Beelzebub grinned. “Alwayzzz alwayzzz want _more_ ,”

“I’m not letting you take control of Hell,” Crowley hissed.

“Of course you won’t, but someone hazzz to run it while you take care of him, Hell doesn’t run itself you know,”

“If you think for one moment-“

Beelzebub interrupted. “I will have your throne, whether or not you hand it to me. You were never meant to lead Crawley, creation wazz alwayzz what you did, and you created havoc and pain and chaozzz well,” They hissed. “But that doesn’t run Hell, it does however, kill,” They looked over Crowley’s shoulder and grinned.

“Stop,” Crowley hissed. “Stop,”

“I don’t have to Crowley, what would killing me accomplish?” Beelzebub asked snidely. “You already have so many rumorzzz, so much talking, what would killing me do but feed the fire?”

“I can get rid of you and the rumors easily,” Crowley hissed.

“But can you?” Beelzebub asked. “Can you?”

“Would you like me to prove it?” Crowley growled.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Beelzebub tutted. “Can’t get messy before your big explanation,”

“What?” Crowley growled.

“Oh, I forgot, I scheduled for you to explain to everyone what you are doing with him,” Beelzebub said.

“You sack of-“

“I wouldn’t waste my breath on cursing me out,” Beelzebub said. “You’re up soon, better think of something to tell them, or I might tell them myself,”

Crowley tossed Beelzebub across the hall. “Get out,”

“Of course, my lord,”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!

Death, Crowley had seen plenty of it. From Eve’s final shuddering breaths to a great pestilent wave of disease to all the way to human made methods of killing. But he didn’t look at it the same way a human did. He was saddened of course, but he didn’t fear it, not often at least, not like the humans did.

In the end, he didn’t much care what happened to himself.

Crowley looked down at the freshly dug hole. It wasn’t pretty and he wished he could’ve done so much _better_ for Aziraphale, he deserved it.

“Forgive me for the indignity love,” Crowley whispered. “I hope it’s at least okay, not sure what you would’ve wanted,” He knelt down and placed a hand on the sheet covered corpse. “Might’ve wanted at least a coffin, eh?”

Aziraphale didn’t answer.

“Be good to me and don’t make me regret not putting a grave bell for you?” Crowley asked, laughing wetly, he didn’t know when he had begun crying.

Aziraphale didn’t laugh.

“Thank you for making my existence worth something,” Crowley kissed Aziraphale’s covered forehead. “I only wish I could’ve done better for you, saved you,”

Crowley lifted Aziraphale’s stiff human disguise and set in the grave.

Crowley took the bunch of white roses and set it upon Aziraphale chest.

He took up the shovel and began filling back the grave.

-

Crowley slid back into his bedroom, closing the door as quietly as possible. He sighed, tried and an emotional wreck. But, at the very least, he was safe, and so was Aziraphale for now.

There were perks to being a demon, to being the king of Hell. Crowley was finding the best one right now was that if you tacked sin onto anything most of Hell would simply nod and go with it. Especially if it involved sinning with an angel or using an angel for sinful purposes.

Crowley felt sick at the idea.

He looked to his bed, where Aziraphale still sat, curled up on the head of it and looking as tired as Crowley was, but in a softer way. In the way Aziraphale would be if he slept for too long, waiting for him to wake up before they both went back to sleep, together.

“Hey, Aziraphale,” Crowley smiled softly. “I’m back, sorry it took so long,”

Aziraphale sat up and smiled brightly. “It’s, it’s okay,”

Crowley sat on the other end of the bed and snapped some extra blankets into existence. “You can sleep here if you like, I’ve got a spare room I’ll use,”

Aziraphale frowned a bit, and quickly patted the space next to him.

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

Aziraphale scooted closer to Crowley and patted the spot next to him. “Stay? P-please?” He asked timidly.

Crowley blinked, a bit surprised, and filled with dread. He didn’t want to, couldn’t say no to Aziraphale’s request, but he also wanted to be far enough from Aziraphale that he wouldn’t have to suffer Crowley’s nightmares. So he wouldn’t get hurt if Crowley lost control.

But Crowley still couldn’t help but cave to Aziraphale’s requests.

“Um, alright, if you’d like it,” Crowley moved up to lie down next to Aziraphale, and suddenly like flies to Beelzebub, Aziraphale was clinging to him. Not in a desperate way, more like a _please don’t leave_ and an anchoring hold.

Crowley shook, waiting for the worst to come, for the worst to befall Aziraphale again.

But it didn’t, Aziraphale quickly fell asleep, and Crowley remained in control of himself.

Crowley wanted to wrap around Aziraphale and hold him close, never let him be taken away again. Keep him safe from everything. But he stayed, only shifting a bit to get comfortable.

He could only pray to Her that Her kindness, if one could call it that, to keeping his nightmares gone, for Aziraphale.

It seems She might’ve been listening, at least for tonight. He slept peacefully, though if the pattern would continue, Crowley didn’t know.

-

“Is there something wrong, Crowley?”

“Right as rain here angel,” Crowley smiled, fixing his mussed hair.

“Hm, well that’s the fifth time you’ve blown out my candles Crowley,” Aziraphale huffed.

“Accidental, dove, get blown out as I walk by for some reason,” Crowley lied.

“Hm,” Aziraphale didn’t say anything more book looked at Crowley suspiciously as he got up to light the candles once again. Humming a soft tune as he went about with the matchstick.

A beeping sound came from the kitchen suddenly.

“The cookies!” Aziraphale blew out the match and hurried off into the kitchen.

Crowley shot up and began blowing out the candles frantically.

“Oh, Crowley, wouldn’t you look at these darling-“ Aziraphale stopped midsentence and his expression soured.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley quickly turned around and tried to appear casual. “Cookies are looking great,”

“Will you please tell me why you’re blowing out my candles?” Aziraphale asked sternly.

“Better for the environment?” Crowley laughed, Aziraphale didn’t find much humor in it.

“Alright, new thing with the humans, have candles but don’t light them so they last longer,” Crowley said.

“ _Crowley_ ,” Aziraphale warned.

Crowley fumbled for another excuse before caving. “Fine, I’m worried,” He grumbled.

“Worried about what dear?” Aziraphale asked, expression softening.

“I’m worried about you and fire, last time you had candles your shop burnt down, lost you, almost for good, can’t stand the idea of you getting discorporated again and losing you for good this time,” Crowley admitted.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale snapped the baked goods back into the kitchen and wrapped Crowley in a tight hug. “My dear, you should’ve told me,”

“M’didn’t need to worry you,” Crowley mumbled.

“ _Regardless_ , it was worrying you,” Aziraphale sighed. “I’m so terribly sorry you had to go through all of that, I really wish you hadn’t. But I can promise you, little flames will not take me from you,”

“I know,” Crowley groaned. “It just doesn’t feel like it,”

“Well, if it helps you we can use electric candles,” Aziraphale smiled and snapped his fingers.

“You didn’t have to do that,”

“Nonsense,”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, please leave a comment!


End file.
